


Countdown

by Delatrista



Category: RWBY
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, New Year's Eve
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:14:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28458873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delatrista/pseuds/Delatrista
Summary: Blake and Sun celebrate the arrival of the new year.
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Sun Wukong
Comments: 1
Kudos: 10





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

> In honor of New Year’s Eve, please enjoy this one-shot I originally posted to my Tumblr last year, [which can be found here!](https://eight-of-pentacles.tumblr.com/post/190006376751/countdown)
> 
> I have updated this slightly since the original Tumblr post, but a majority of the story remains the same.
> 
> Happy New Year, everyone! Here's to hoping that 2021 is far better for all of us.

It has only been three days since team RWBY had reached their destination. In this short time, Blake has learned that the capital city of Vacuo, of which she had only heard rumors involving cutthroat bandits and chaos serving as the only law, has learned ways to conquer the worst of the desert’s threats, serving as one of the few permanent bastions in this region.

It’s not much to look at, if she’s being honest; small buildings crafted out of tan and gray adobe blocks line the thin cobblestone walkways that stretch out from Shade Academy in the center of the city, in a senseless explosion of streets going wherever there was available space at the time of their construction.

There is no order here, no thought put into what would be most efficient; though she thinks there is a certain sense of beauty to the chaos, as well. Even with the dull cityscape, color still thrives in Vacuo. Particularly within the woven banners, which arc from rooftop to rooftop to act as sunshades over the exposed streets. Their geometric patterns, made of olive greens, royal blues, vibrant reds, and many more hues display a more single-minded focus of the Vacuan people, especially when the clean lines are compared to the disarray of the city’s layout. Palm trees are tended to at the city’s core, and in the better-off districts streams of water run alongside the streets in small aqueducts accentuated by large, potted desert flora.

She hadn’t thought it possible for there to be life like this in such an unwelcoming landscape; yet in the present moment, she is witness to more color than she’s seen anywhere else in Remnant.

The streets glow in the soft orange luminescence of the cage lights which light the way, while droves of Vacuans flow through the city with vibrant purpose, singing and dancing to local chants that she can only guess the origins of. Fireworks dance across the backdrop of a clear ebony sky dotted with more stars than she can ever remember seeing, explosions of reds and blues and every other color in between the two.

It’s an important celebration of the new year, one she’s come to learn is unique to Vacuo. She has the perfect vantage point to watch it all unfolding underneath her gaze, while she sits on the rooftop of the home her team had been afforded to stay in, courtesy of the man laying side by side with her to watch the fireworks.

Blake hadn’t been surprised to learn that Sun had been awaiting her team’s arrival; though that realization, in and of itself, had confused her at first.

His excuse had been enough to get the rest of the girls off his back. His claim that the building he had booked for his own team had just enough spare rooms for four other guests was sound enough; but she had learned much about him in the year and a half he had lived under the same roof as her, and she knew that Sun was more frugal with his money than he let on. With that knowledge, she had quickly deduced that he had purposefully spent the extra money for months in advance, in order to accommodate her and her friends when the time came.

The gesture was as foreign to her as Vacuo itself; after all, why waste that kind of money when it could have been put to better use? It isn’t a cheap place by any means, due to its location in the part of the city where the elite live at the top of the large hill which cradles Vacuo’s streets and buildings. Learning that Sun had been taking on this cost for months, for no discernible benefit, is difficult for Blake to rationalize.

Despite this frustrating realization, however, she hadn’t wanted their first interactions since Mistral to involve arguing over finances, so she resolved herself to leaving the topic alone. For now.

Quickly, she returns her attention to the moment, instead of continuing to dwell on the endless pieces which make up the puzzle of Sun Wukong.

At her side, the boy in question is stretched out on his side facing towards her, resting his head on his arm while his tail curls over his hip in a way that definitely _doesn’t_ draw her attention out of the corner of her eye while she lays on her back to look up at the sky. Since they had originally come to the roof, and laid out the cushions and blankets they had “borrowed” from the bedrooms, she’s occasionally felt the burn of his stare on the side of her face. Whenever she has turned her head to meet his eyes, he conveniently tilts his face up to admire the fireworks.

Each time, she’s been mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of color dancing across his features, reflecting off the gray in his eyes and making them seem brighter than they already are.

Perhaps it’s because of the suspended sense of time owed to the impending countdown to the new year; but she's quickly come to realize there is some undeniable urge lurking beneath her mind, a desire which has emboldened her to admire Sun in blatant ways whenever she’s looked to him since they reunited in Vacuo’s streets.

Every time she has thought he was watching her, she has turned to meet him; where once she would ignore his gaze, and bask in the imagined warmth in silence. But now, she finds herself growing increasingly frustrated when she shifts her attention to catch him in the act of watching her, only to find his gaze occupied by something else entirely.

But that hasn’t deterred her eyes, and as the minutes have crawled slowly onward, she continues to find herself enraptured by Sun's presence whenever she finds him at her side.

Blake feels his stare on her once again; it's an unmistakable intensity which blankets her skin and raises the hair at the base of her neck. She could mistake the sensation with that of laying next to a fire which warms her skin, and she waits only for a heartbeat before she tilts her head, fully anticipating that Sun will have looked away by the time her gaze swings sideways.

She’s thus pleasantly surprised when, instead, her eyes meet Sun's.

He remains lax and prone on his side while he looks at her, with his chin propped against his hand and his elbow braced into the blankets beneath them both. He tilts his head further into his palm while the corner of his mouth lifts into a small smile once she’s realized he hasn’t shifted his focus off of her, and that small gesture sets her heart on a heavy pace while her face grows warmer under his attention.

Absently, her eyes dart across his face, taking in the way his sun-kissed skin is illuminated by the continuous explosion of lights above them, and the orange glow from the street below. She can tell he’s doing the same, and she tracks the way his eyes flick away from her own and down to her cheeks, her lips, before circling back in a continuous pattern that feels as though it is setting her skin aflame.

Hours could pass with them like this and she instinctually knows she wouldn’t notice, but the moment Sun breaks their shared gaze she still feels like it hasn’t been nearly long enough. She watches as he reaches down for the Scroll in the space between them, tapping the screen to wake it and showing her that there is only a few more minutes until midnight; until the new year.

When he moves to sit up, she follows him, and together they look out over the expanse of Vacuo blazing in the desert air.

“I wonder what the boys are up to,” Sun says quietly, and Blake turns her head to look at him while he observes the city with a half-lidded gaze. She taps absently at the blankets beneath her, observing while he shakes his head and returns his attention to her.

“If they’re like my team, they’re off at some restaurant or club,” she replies with only slight disdain coloring her words, and Sun hums.

“Didn’t you and Yang go clubbing in Atlas?” he asks with a smirk, and she laughs breathlessly.

“It was one time, to see whether it was all Yang was making it out to be,” she explains.

Sun’s eyebrow quirks and his smirk widens as he asks, “And was it?”

She laughs again to make herself ignore the way her heart pushes against the barrier of her ribs, before saying, “I never want to step foot in one again. Too crowded!”

Sun chuckles quietly at that, and Blake can’t help the smile that works its way across her lips at the sound.

Another round of fireworks unleashes above their heads, but she doesn’t turn her attention to them this time, and she instead shifts closer into Sun’s space intent on…something, though she isn’t sure what it is just yet, when her own Scroll buzzes in her pocket.

Her smile slowly fades away when she reaches for it, and she pulls the device in front of her where the screen greets her with a video from Yang, shakily maneuvering the camera to film herself with her arm draped across Weiss’s shoulders, underneath the strobe lights and narrow ceiling of a club.

In the background, Ruby and Sage can be seen huddled by the bar, observing the crowd and holding glasses of milk and water, respectively, and she can just catch the glimpse of aqua-colored hair in the throng of dancers on the dance floor further in the background.

At her back, Blake can feel Sun draw closer to look at the screen over her shoulder, the heat of his body pressing up against her back forcing her to focus on gripping her Scroll rather than his proximity.

“Happy New Year, you two!” Yang shouts at the camera to be heard over the din of the music, while Weiss waves her hand in greeting and sways with Yang as she adjusts the camera in her hand. “We’re having a great time here, which is surprising. Never thought this would be Weiss’s scene, it’s not prim and proper enough—”

Blake laughs when she sees the aforementioned heiress shove a harsh elbow into Yang’s side, but the blonde continues undeterred, “—and Ruby’s over there with Sage, you can probably see them…she’s taking to this better than you were, Blake, you know? But anyways, we’ll be back later tonight, I think Scarlet is gonna seriously injure Neptune if they spend much longer on the dance floor…”

Yang sways again, leaning into Weiss and tightening her grip around the girl’s shoulders in the process, and Blake raises an eyebrow at _that_ particular gesture before her teammate continues.

“Now no playing house, you hear me? I’m not ready to be an aunt yet, so I don’t want any baby Wukong-Belladonnas running around—”

“I’m ready though!” Weiss interjects. Her voice is indignant, as though she is personally offended at what Yang is trying to prevent.

“You’ve got Terra and Saph’s kid!” Yang fires back, and Weiss reaches for the Scroll as the shot begins to tumble from Yang’s grasp.

“Adrian was cute, but he’s Jaune’s nephew! You can’t tell me Sun and Blake wouldn’t have the most adorable children—”

 _And that’s_ quite _enough,_ Blake thinks as she hastily locks her Scroll, flinging it behind her as though it had burnt her fingers. She can hear Sun trying, and failing, to hold back laughter, which only causes her face to grow redder as the realization dawns on her that her teammates were arguing over her and Sun having children—

Below, the sounds of celebration spike in volume, drawing her away from the sheer embarrassment of what she had just witnessed. With the chanting in the streets growing in volume and fervor, Blake takes the opportunity to raise herself onto her knees and crawl over to the edge of the rooftop to see for herself what the commotion is.

Across the azure holographic screens embedded in the walls below, she can see a sixty second countdown has started, continuously marking the passing of this year’s last moments. She glances over her shoulder at Sun, this time catching him as he watches her, and her heart beats faster when she sees the deep blush that has quickly spread across his cheeks, with rosy patches dusting his tan skin.

“Less than a minute till the new year,” she says quietly, and she barely notices how Sun only nods back at her. She crawls back over to him, moving to sit on her knees with her fists clenched across her lap and focusing very hard on calming her erratic heart fluttering in her chest.

Yet she holds her breath when Sun shifts himself to face her, watching the firework lights flashing over him even as he stares back at her, mirroring the anticipation which urges her heart to go faster, _faster_ , despite how much she just wants to slow this moment down, to suspend herself and Sun in this in-between where it feels like they are on the cusp of something great and unknown. Still, the countdown marches on.

_“Ten…!”_

Blake gravitates closer to Sun, keenly aware of every breath which leaves him and the way his pupils grow wider underneath her unwavering attention. She pushes up onto her hands and knees slowly, noticing the tick of his eyebrow while she moves, and she pauses to wait for his response even as her ears perk straight atop her skull, ruffling the strands of her hair which have been blown into disarray by the desert breeze.

_“Nine…!”_

Sun moves from his cross-legged seat, slowly raising himself to mirror her position on his knees; almost as if he’s trying not to startle her. She keeps herself still when she sees him crawl one step closer to her.

It doesn't feel nearly close enough. The air between them is alive with more than the city’s energy around them, more energized than the fireworks above them…

_“Eight…!”_

She feels strange, as though she isn’t quite in control of herself when she allows Sun to finally move in enough for their knees to brush against one another— and yet, in that same odd way, there's a voice within her, eager and impatient, whispering that this is what she has been waiting for since that distant train station in Mistral. Back when Sun had confidently exclaimed his hope for the future.

“You said you thought I hadn’t seen the last of you,” she says quietly. Her words echo the memory of what he had told her all those days ago. Her voice is just loud enough for her to know that Sun could hear her over the crowds, and she turns her gaze down to where their legs touch.

_“Seven…!”_

“I did,” Sun confirms, and Blake watches as his hand gradually rises from his own lap.

She holds her breath watching him, scarcely wanting to move; though she still doesn’t understand why everything seems like it is moving so slow as he reaches for her closed fists, across what little space remains between them.

Just as his fingers are about to brush across her skin, however, he stops— and Blake looks back up to meet his gaze. She is met with such a cacophony of emotions that she can’t even begin to parse through them.

_“Six…!”_

Some part of Blake has always acknowledged that Sun is physically attractive. She would have needed to be blind not to see it, especially when he walks around as though having his shirt open is just the type of thing everyone does.

She didn’t consciously admit to it until after Beacon’s prom, and even by that point she had difficulty accepting those feelings; choosing instead to lock them in a small corner of her mind, only paying attention to the thoughts in moments where her guard was down around him, when she could watch him train or study without fear of him noticing her eyes on him.

In this suspended moment, however, she fully realizes how beautiful she finds him. It's there in the way the city lights set his hair aglow, and how the gray of his irises reflect every color of every firework, shifting his eyes from blue to green to yellow in rapid succession. The corner of his mouth is typically permanently lifted into a small smile, but when she turns her full attention towards it, Sun’s lips flatten. She brings her gaze back to his eyes.

_“Five…!”_

She is bracing herself to ask him what’s wrong, concern chilling the heat that has been spreading through her veins, when he opens his mouth.

“Do you still hope that?” he asks her, echoing her own quiet words back to her. The lowering of his brow and the fall of his lips is antithetical to everything she knows of Sun. Worry is not a good look on him.

She blinks at the realization, and her brow furrows briefly before her answer tumbles out of her before she has a chance to think it through.

“Of course I do.”

_“Four…!”_

When Sun’s fingers brush against the back of her hand, Blake doesn’t feel surprised at the gesture; though the contact electrifies her, and when her fists loosen it’s an automatic response to the way Sun curls her hand into his own. She barely notices how they close in on each other, each of them moving at the same time as the other. She outright ignores the way the blankets shift and bunch uncomfortably between them.

The crowd is growing even louder, a feat somehow still possible despite the rampage they were already undergoing, but the noise is nothing compared to how her heartbeat rushes in her ears. The explosions of the fireworks are inconsequential to the way she can feel Sun’s pulse racing beneath her fingers.

_“Three…!”_

“Blake,” Sun whispers, and she feels his thumb graze across her hand while he tightens his hold on her fingers.

She blinks again, unconsciously relishing in the way her name sounds when he says it so quietly, almost reverently.

She feels like she could get drunk off of the roll of her name on his lips alone.

Her free hand raises up towards his cheek with still, gentle fingers. Sun's eyes shift away from hers to watch as she moves towards him, and she hesitates when she notices him take in a deep breath just as her fingers are about to touch his face.

Blake doesn’t realize she’s holding her own breath until he leans across the small distance into her palm, and the air rushes out of her in a brief, harsh burst while Sun looks back at her with his head tilted to the side, and his cheek pressed firmly against her. This time, she runs her other thumb across the back of his hand. She focuses on every small, raised scar in her path and commits the feel of them to memory.

_“Two…!”_

Somehow, Sun looks more nervous than Blake feels. Her lungs tremble and fight to laugh at his expression, for how easily it washes away the unreadable emotions she had seen in his eyes moments prior, but she holds the mirth behind her lips.

Before she realizes what is happening, Sun lifts his free hand up to reach behind her head, cupping the nape of her neck in a warm grasp which radiates down her spine and up to her ears, which twitch involuntarily.

His eyes draw slowly up towards the movement, and she watches as he works his jaw; her eyes focus on the movement of his throat as he swallows. His fingers twist gently into the hair at the base of her skull.

_“One…!”_

“Are you sure?” he asks her. She notices only now that their faces have drawn closer, and the only thing in her vision is Sun. This close to him, she can see flecks of bright blue which break up the stormy gray in his eyes, like shards of sapphire amongst rain-heavy clouds, and Blake shudders with a shallow breath underneath his hand while she steels herself.

She doesn’t break their shared gaze while she tightens her hold on his hand in her lap, and with her heart now pressing against her chest as if it were trying to bring itself closer to Sun, Blake whispers, “Yes—”

—and surges forward across the scarce inches between them, closing her eyes just as she presses her lips to his.

_“Happy New Year!”_

Sun’s response is instantaneous, and very much eager.

His hand at her nape brings her head closer to him, for which she gladly follows as they both raise up further onto their knees in tandem. His lips are soft underneath hers, and while she’s lost in that realization he quickly untangles their fingers, even while she presses her hand against his cheek.

She would protest the separation if she weren’t so keen on making this moment last, and she finds that her complaint would have been short-lived when she feels his arm wrap around her back. He brings her flush against him, where she can feel his heart beating just as quickly as hers. All around them she can feel the celebration of the city, cheering as the new year begins, and in a way she feels as though the excitement doesn’t begin to match how she feels in this single, never-ending moment of being in Sun’s arms, cradling his face in her palm.

When they do finally, regrettably break apart, she is the first between them to part her eyes. She stares at him, and takes in the way his eyelashes flutter and waver underneath her stare. She waits until his eyes eventually open, the gray in them clouded over in awe-struck bliss.

She feels a smile growing across her lips as Sun begins to laugh, his chest rising and falling beneath hers and causing her to feel laughter bubbling up inside her as well. Sun’s hand combs through her hair, though his eyes don’t leave hers while his laughter trails off into content silence. She lifts the hand she still has on his face to brush her knuckles against his cheek, while bringing her free arm up behind his back to curl against his shoulder.

“Happy New Year, Blake,” Sun tells her, and she closes her eyes while she leans forward, and presses her forehead against his.

“Happy New Year, Sun.”


End file.
